Harry Potter and the Unexplained Phobia

Chapter four: A leak in the dam

Fanart by upthehillart

Harry tried everything to get out of going to the Weasley's for Christmas. He knew there would be some danger in not being able to blend into the student body, mixed with the higher student/ teacher ratio, but they were nothing to the mothering arms and keen eye of Molly Weasley. Even when he was younger, she made sure to stuff him full of calorific food and sweet drinks, trying to fatten him up like a pig in a market fayre. But there was no way he could politely get out of it.

He brooded over it in the days and nights that followed, barely able to attend the lessons, let alone keep track of what was going on. It was only due to Hermione that he managed to compile a list of assignments to do over the break, though he knew, scanning down the long list, he would never attempt them. 

His teachers had noticed his change in behaviour. Even Sprout had chastised him for his wavering attention, scolding him as she wrapped his bitten hand in a bandage after a particularly bad lesson with the Snargalaffs. He'd lost over a hundred points in that week alone, much to the displeasure of the other Gryffindors.

McGonagall had called him into her office the night before, ready with a set of complaints from the other members of staff. Snapes, in particular, had been scathing, his language particularly vulgar concerning his least favourite student. This was normal, if a little strong for the potions master, but none of the other teachers usually had anything negative to say- other than some mild fooling around with the other Gryffindor boys, he'd always been well-behaved. But this was one of the worst reviews she'd ever received.

"Potter," she announced when he'd walked into her room, quietly closing the door behind him. "I expect you know why you're here?"

"Not exactly, Professor," he mumbled, sitting in the uncomfortable wooden chair in front of her desk. As far as he was aware, while he'd been daydreaming through a lot of his lessons, he hadn't actually done anything wrong. She raised an eyebrow at his impertinence and slammed the scroll of parchment in front of him. He picked it up nervously and held it close to his eyes, scanning down the list. He caught a few words: lazy, negligent, distracted, plus a few more colourful comments from Snape. Blushing shamefaced, he handed back the list, too sickened to read any more. "Now do you understand?"

"Professor, I..." He couldn't quite explain himself. He knew it was true and though he was no Hermione, he did have respect for the teachers and was more than a little embarrassed to see their review of his performance in front of him. "I..."

"Is that all you have to say?" she huffed, leaning back in her chair and running a weary hand over her eyes. "Potter, I know you haven't exactly had a normal school experience while you've been here, but frankly, this is shocking. It's like you've been hit over the head with a bludger, although according to Madame Pomfrey, you haven't, so I'm at a loss."

"I don't know what's happened," Harry lied. He knew his failing grades were due to his physical condition, or his brain fog, or the fact he'd had no sleep some nights, or the near-constant anxiety that meant schoolwork had been the last thing on his mind. "I'm sorry."

"I should hope so." They sat in an uncomfortable silence, while the pair of them ran over the notes again and again, trying to find an answer to his horrific grades. "In a situation like this, normally I would talk to your parents, well, guardians, but I think we both know what good that'll do. This just isn't good enough, if there is any reason, any reason at all, then please do tell me. Or any member of staff. Because this can not continue."

"I think I've just been a bit stressed," he mumbled lamely.

She nodded, picking up the papers and noisily stacking them at the corner of her desk. She never made unnecessary comments about a student's personal hygiene if she could help it, but Potter's breath smelt bad. His hair was sticking up in its normal clumps, though slightly more frizzy than normal. His skin looked dry, especially around his lips, which were scabbed over from the dry weather. Altogether, she decided, he looked dehydrated, not realising she'd hit the nail on the head. Unfortunately, she only saw it as a secondary symptom of something, rather than the root of all his problems.